'Institutionalized by My Wife's Lover', Segment Four

Michael Devereau

My room... perhaps best termed a chamber... is windowless... the only opening in four plain white walls the entrance door. Lighting is at the behest of a tending nurse, a dimmer switch determining the illumination. Otherwise I am in the dark, left to my thoughts, staring at the ceiling when eyes are opened. And with the intensity of the darkness, there are times when I know not whether they are.

Most times, for going potty... as the deed is childishly referenced... the room light is limited, as with feedings. For daily examinations there is brightness... and I have come to conclude it is to augment the embarrassment as much as to assess my wellness... forced to watch as gloved hands pinch, poke and palpate with license. And of course when the nurse removed my hair... every strand... it seemed that spotlights glowed. I suppose for that I should be grateful for the enhanced vision with the sharpness of the razor and the power of the caustic chemicals applied   

So my existence diminishes to guessing at the timing of the next visit... and the purpose... food, water, potty, examination... a dose of estrogen.

My thoughts wander but always seem to circle back to when I last engaged with Master Edward.... he paying the enormous cost of my stay.

I was tenderly licking his penis... as trained to do on demand... and he was explaining that I was to be sent away... the curiosity of the many children... three with a fourth soon to come... not to be piqued by a nanny with breasts and a penis.

It stunned, having so obeisantly served over the years... that the sacrifice and surrender of both my wife and my self esteem were deemed superfluous. But is that what prompted me to bite... intend to harm my Master... he who provides all? 

Then come to mind the final words I am able to recall after days... weeks?.. of unending bondage... when in the new scheme of things I had the temerity to inquire of my wife Nicole. I found purpose in orally serving her... regularly cleansing her of another man’s seed had become a welcomed ritual... my turn to please.

‘You’re useless to her... but don’t fret... I’ll continue fucking her,’ the words intended to sooth.
Did such spur the extreme reaction?

More comes back to me... my Master’s mention of the regimen of constant pregnancy... that it would continue... without me! My wife... so often accepting... craving another man’s seed... would have her babies nurtured and cared for without me!

For some reason I find a need to talk to Nurse Abbie. In past interaction she has annoyed and irritated with her profound words... at a very young age seeming to know me... know of me... better than myself... with her graduate work in aberrant psychology her demeanor coming across as precocious. For some reason I now find wisdom.

The room door opens. The room alights most dimly. It is unexpected, but I have come to accept that visits are random.

“Well, a new arrival. Fresh meat. And not yet ready to play,” the voice is female, low, husky, the tone pretentious.

Coming into view, smiling wickedly comes a woman in a loose light blue blouse and pleated dark blue skirt... short... not in any manner stylish. She is of age... not old... but certainly not young. She moves to stand at my right side, eyes examining.

“Nicely restrained and gagged. I like a man that way. But the chart on the door says you’re a biter. Naughty boy.”

The right arm extends, a hand going to my face. I cannot move, as always. I helplessly lie as a finger goes to my lips then smooths over my teeth, forcibly exposed by steel.

“I’m Monique. As you can see I’m a patient here as well,” her free hand going to the hem of the short dark blue skirt and momentarily flipping it up.

Sans undergarments, the brief motion offers a glimpse of her sex, pubic hair well trimmed.

“So I need to be careful... for now. But after your dental work we’ll get to know each other much better.”

The finger withdraws. Then comes humiliation of intensity as I undergo examination... not clinical... instead very much intended to embarrass as my breasts are palmed, my ringed penis pushed about, my testicles palpated. The smooth hairlessness seems to thrill, a hand grazing over my freshly shorn scalp.

“So nice big tits... tiny balls... a penis that even if not rendered useless by a chastity ring could not please an elf. And someone decided to make you delightfully smooth, Mr. Michael Devereau. Should I call you Mike? Waggle your tongue if so.”

Curious that my tongue has become a form of communication. I find myself thrusting forth and waggling, fearful of annoying she with unfettered access.
“Good. Been reading your file... all about you.”

She smiles at my look of shock and perplexity.

“Oh yes, all the subordinate males have their total background information available to the women patients... sort of a library for casual reading here. Know you’ve been watching your Master fuck your wife for years... raising their kids... while held in strict chastity. Quite entertaining. But most fascinating is that you’ve been trained to come on command... to the sound of your wife’s voice.”

I wrench against my bonds, arms fruitlessly pulling, the level of agitation intolerable.

Noting the slight motion and twitching muscles, the woman laughs... a finger playfully tapping my nose.

“Want to bite me?” she taunts. “Well the most entertaining stuff were the video tapes, you fucking a piece of rubber... your wife conditioning you to ejaculate... though the file indicates you more leaked onto a plate. And the best... you licking a penis... must suppose it was your Master. Did watching that one really excite you enough to come when your wife commanded?”

I seethe, restrained and gagged I cannot explain that all was forced upon me.

“But the file indicates you’ve sucked a lot of cock over the years. So pleasuring your Master must have come as second nature. You seemed quite attentive to his penis. And so nicely hung. I can understand why your wife takes on bull studs like that. Particularly...”

Her stultifying narration pauses as a hand goes to my pubes, a finger crassly flicking the side of my penis, avoiding the piercing ring while looking into my face. She is pleasant, smiling, torturing me with her words... and enjoying every moment.

“We date here... at the Institute. It’s a euphemism for when a subordinate male is relegated to a woman undergoing therapy.... for a few hours. It’s kind of like immersion treatment... you know... eating so much of a particular candy you become queasy at the sight of it.”

She steps out of sight to a cabinet over my head... where the nurses move when in need of supplies. When she returns I hear a stool being pushed in place, then a length of dark cloth covers my eyes. Seconds later, blinded, I feel cloth enveloping my head. Then my forehead is pressed by smooth, warm flesh and my nose fills with feminine fragrance. I learn of the convenience of the loose skirt... the missing undergarments. For there begins the flow of golden elixir... hot, bitter, salty... flowing unimpeded to my gullet, mouth forced open... gag reflex long restrained.     

 “Yes, your file mentioned this well ingrained talent... so facilely taking a woman’s toilet.”

The warmth retreats, the blinding cloth slipped away. It is used to dab about my lips, unnecessarily tidying... as always, I have neatly imbibed all she offered.

“So after your dental work, we’re going to date, Mike... Mr. Michael Devereau. And you’ll be tasting more and more of me.”

The cloth is tossed away. The woman... Monique... stands where I can best view her as she in turn views me.

“Know you can’t ask... gagged and silenced... but I understand you want to know... why I am here. Well, my husband... my late husband... had a bit of an accident. He choked... on excrement. I trained him to so much enjoy the taste of my wastes that he got carried away. Least that was the conclusion of the coroner. But for the district attorney to agree to drop the case, there was offered a deferred prosecution agreement... undergo therapy here at the Institute and evidence that I was sitting on his face as my husband panicked for oxygen would be quashed.”

She notes my look of fear and horror, stepping forth, a hand going to the steel of my gag, fingers inserting and pinching a tongue with no place to hide. She pulls... vigorously.

“Long, thick and strong. Well exercised. Nicely conditioned. You don’t think the district attorney had reason to insist on the agreement... do you Mike?” smiling in hearing my gurgles of shock.